


the seasons have changed (and so have we)

by nightswatch



Series: transatlanticism [6]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-30
Updated: 2014-11-30
Packaged: 2018-02-27 15:07:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2697395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightswatch/pseuds/nightswatch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enjolras is back in New York - this time with Combeferre and Courfeyrac.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the seasons have changed (and so have we)

  _You: Grantaire, you seriously need to stop sending me pictures of your_

_You: you know what_

_Grantaire: i thought you might enjoy them ;-)_

_You: It’s not that I don’t, but I need to pack because, guess what, I’m going to New York to see you tomorrow morning and you’re distracting me._

_Grantaire: i can’t wait to see you x_

_You: :-) xx_

Enjolras sighed and put down his phone, trying very hard not to look at the photo Grantaire had sent to him. Or the one he’d sent earlier that day. He’d been flustered all day, and Courfeyrac and Combeferre had thought he was excited because he was going to see Grantaire again, but it was actually mostly because he’d seen a lot of Grantaire already. His face went beet-red every time Grantaire sent him another picture.

He threw some shirts into his suitcase and then some shorts, thinking about the summer he’d spent with Grantaire, when they’d spent summer nights that should have been unbearable curled up naked in Grantaire’s bed, both of them perfectly content.

Enjolras could only hope that this time it wouldn’t be any different.

He was nervous, and it wasn’t just excitement, he was also feeling uncertain because he wasn’t quite sure where he and Grantaire stood. They were obviously still in a relationship, nothing had changed about that, but there had been too many things they’d started bickering about recently and things just hadn’t felt _right_ anymore.

There was nothing he could do about it now, though. They’d have time to talk when he was in New York, Enjolras was sure.

He ran his fingers through his curls, biting his lips. They were short now, had been for a couple of days, and he still wasn’t quite used to it. And he hadn’t told Grantaire about it yet, mostly because he was scared that he wouldn’t like it.

It was a ridiculous thought, Enjolras knew that, but he’d still decided on not showing Grantaire until they’d see each other in New York.

At least his friends had liked it. Courfeyrac had looked a little shocked in the beginning, but he’d got over it as soon as he’d realized how bouncy Enjolras’ curls were now that they were shorter and had started pulling at them every now and again, watching them spring right back into place.

Enjolras decided to give up on packing for now and joined Combeferre and Courfeyrac in the living room, listening to them argue about whether they’d first go to the Museum of Natural History or to Times Square.

* * *

“Are we all set?”

“I think we are,” Grantaire said, looking around their living room with a frown. Jehan had somehow managed to borrow a blow-up mattress for Combeferre and Courfeyrac to sleep on, their fridge was overflowing with food and they’d baked a welcome cake this morning.

Jehan smiled and gave him a brief hug. “Remember how nervous you were when he first came here?”

“I’m actually still nervous,” Grantaire said, laughing quietly. It was manageable this time, similar to how he felt before he played a gig – scared that he’d fuck up and happy that he was right where was.

His life was a mess, an organized mess now that he’d signed with the label, but he still wasn’t quite used to what was happening in his life right now. His album was doing reasonably well and he was going on tour to promote it, to Europe and to Canada.

He was going to play a couple of festivals in August, a few club shows here and there, in the fall he’d go on tour with two other bands from the same label. One of them was going to open for him at a show next week. It still felt strange to him that someone was his support act and not the other way around.

Honestly, ensuring that he had no appointments whatsoever while Enjolras and Combeferre and Courfeyrac were in New York had been terribly difficult, which was why he still had to play that gig next weekend.

Enjolras had told him that he didn’t mind, that Combeferre and Courfeyrac were looking forward to seeing him play, but Grantaire also had an appointment for an interview and a lunch date with one of the guys at the label that he hadn’t been able to cancel. Then again, it was only a matter of a couple of hours, so it really wasn’t that big of a deal.

Jehan gave him a pat on the back. “We’re going to have so much fun.”

Grantaire laughed. “Yeah, definitely.”

“I’ll wake you up tomorrow morning,” Jehan said, kissed his cheek and wandered off to his room.

Jehan kept his promise and woke him up the next morning, thankfully at a reasonable hour. Grantaire had borrowed Bahorel’s van so he could pick the three of them up at the airport instead of making them take the subway back to Brooklyn.

Grantaire was at the airport way too early, nothing new there, and had three coffees and two cookies while he waited and contemplated buying the most ridiculous tourist shit before he eventually returned to the arrivals gate, where he waited impatiently for the flight from _Paris (CDG)_ to land, wondering how long it’d take them to get through immigration.

Courfeyrac was the first one he spotted, not even surprised when he came rushing towards him, his suitcase nowhere to be seen. He pulled him into a tight hug. “Grantaire, it’s so good to see you,” he said, in French, much to Grantaire’s surprise. Well, at least Grantaire had understood what he was saying.

Combeferre appeared seconds later, pulling two suitcases, and Enjolras was right behind him, smiling broadly. He looked just like he had three weeks ago, the last time they’d seen each other on Skype – much too long ago for Grantaire’s taste – only now Enjolras’ hair was short.

“You cut your hair?” Grantaire asked as he wrapped his arms around Enjolras, face buried in his shirt, holding on tightly. He probably should have just said _hello_ first.

Enjolras didn’t seem to mind the lack of proper greeting, though. “Do you like it?” he asked, squeezing him gently.

Grantaire pulled away, his hands still on Enjolras, looking up at him. “It’s different,” he said slowly, “but I think I do like it.”

Combeferre cleared his throat. “Hello, Grantaire. It’s so nice of you to pick us up.”

“It’s really not a big deal,” Grantaire said, quickly letting go of Enjolras, so he could give Combeferre a hug as well.

Before Grantaire could lead them to Bahorel’ car, though, Enjolras insisted on pulling him into a kiss that sadly didn’t last anywhere near as long as Grantaire would have liked. They’d have more time for that later on, he told himself and took Enjolras’ hand.

* * *

Enjolras sighed happily, trying to somehow keep himself awake. Grantaire’s fingers were running through his sweaty curls, not tugging anymore, just caressing. Enjolras’ limbs were comfortably heavy and he felt more relaxed than he had in weeks. It was so nice to be close to Grantaire again, to actually be able to touch him, and whatever doubts he’d had before he’d come here were all but forgotten.

When Grantaire’s hand disappeared, Enjolras let out a displeased huff and his eyes fluttered open.

Grantaire smiled down at him fondly. “I’m just getting the lights.”

“Does that mean we’re going to sleep?” Enjolras asked, stretching languidly, smirking when Grantaire arched an eyebrow.

“Not necessarily,” Grantaire said, slipping out of bed, still gloriously naked, and wandered over to the door, flipping the light switch. He swiftly returned to Enjolras, now bathed in the soft orange glow that was filtering in through the window.

It wasn’t even that late yet. They’d spent the afternoon settling in, eating cake and then they’d gone out for dinner with Jehan, whom Combeferre and Courfeyrac immediately got along with splendidly, but Courfeyrac had been very obviously jetlagged and even Combeferre, who’d done his best to hide it, hadn’t managed to suppress his yawns. They’d decided to go to bed early to ensure that they’d be at least somewhat functional the next day. Honestly, Enjolras was knackered too, but he was willing to forego sleep as long as Grantaire was still awake as well.

The second Grantaire had settled back into bed, Enjolras curled around him. The thought of just giving in and going to sleep sounded more and more welcome to him.

Grantaire kissed his forehead, his fingers sneaking back into Enjolras’ hair. “Why did you cut it?”

“I felt like it,” Enjolras mumbled. “And I thought that it might look… more professional.” He was sure that no one at the office would have minded, but still, he’d felt like a change. He trailed his fingers up Grantaire’s chest. “You hate it, don’t you?”

“No, I don’t hate it,” Grantaire muttered defensively. “I’m just not used to it, ‘s all.”

“Well, it’s still long enough for you to tug at it,” Enjolras mused.

Grantaire huffed out a laugh. “And I definitely appreciate that, believe me.”

Enjolras hummed. “It’s so nice to be back here.” As cramped at it was, now even worse with the blow-up mattress in the living room, Grantaire and Jehan’s flat did have a certain charm, simply because of what they’d made of it and Enjolras had loved staying here two years ago. “It’s been so long.”

“I know,” Grantaire mumbled. “I’m sorry I didn’t–”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Enjolras interrupted, because Grantaire couldn’t possibly think that he was blaming him, could he?

Grantaire let out a heavy sigh and Enjolras wished he knew what he was thinking right now, but Grantaire was quick to distract him. “So, any plans? I talked to Feuilly the other day and he promised he’d come to my gig next weekend and maybe we can have lunch or dinner together at some point. I told him you’d get in touch with him.”

“Alright, I’ll do that tomorrow,” Enjolras whispered, stifling a yawn. “Hm, Combeferre wants to go to a lot of museums and, well, he has a list, maybe you should just ask him to show you. And Courfeyrac wants to go to the Disney Store and he wants to watch a show on Broadway.”

“Yeah, we can do that, I know a guy,” Grantaire said. “What about you?”

Enjolras burrowed against Grantaire, drifting somewhere between asleep and awake. “I’m here to see you.”

Grantaire laughed. “Alright, then.”

Enjolras could only make a content noise when Grantaire pulled the sheets around them even though they’d definitely end up far, far away from them in the course of the night. He eventually fell asleep, his arms and legs wrapped around Grantaire.

* * *

“Oh my god, this is so good,” Courfeyrac groaned, smiling happily when Jehan shoveled another pancake onto his plate.

Grantaire wasn’t quite sure what he’d been expecting when he’d emerged from his room in the morning, but it definitely hadn’t been pornographic noises. He snorted when he found Courfeyrac devouring Jehan’s pancakes, Combeferre still looking a little disheveled and like he wasn’t quite as awake yet.

“How’s the blow-up mattress?” Grantaire asked as he poured himself a cup of coffee.

“I left it to Courfeyrac,” Combeferre said, smiling faintly. “He moves around a lot in his sleep and it kept making noises, so I went to sleep on the couch.”

“Yeah, just so you know,” Jehan threw in, “we borrowed that thing, so don’t break it by trying to have super wild sex on it.”

Grantaire nodded. “Just do that on the couch.”

Courfeyrac snorted and raised his mug of coffee to Grantaire. “I’ll make sure to remember that.”

Combeferre cleared his throat. “Is Enjolras still asleep?”

“He’s taking a shower. If you guys want we can set out after breakfast.” Grantaire turned to Combeferre. “Enjolras said you had a list?”

“I do,” Combeferre said. “But we’d understand if you wanted to spend some time with Enjolras.”

“And without us,” Courfeyrac added, winking at him.

“Yeah, we’ll just go on a walk around the neighborhood.” Combeferre smiled. “We’re really not expecting you to entertain us.”

“Well,” Jehan said, stepping up to the table, “if you’re interested in the neighborhood, I could show you around. I know some really nice places.”

“Only if you don’t have any other plans,” Courfeyrac said, smiling brightly.

Jehan shrugged. “I’ll ask a friend of mine to join us.” He was obviously talking about Bahorel and Grantaire thought it curious that Jehan still referred to him as a friend. Grantaire had asked him what was going on between them once. Jehan had only told him that they were _extremely friendly friends_ on occasion. Grantaire had just let it go after that.

“Don’t take them to any cemeteries, alright?” Grantaire said and gave him a nudge.

Jehan only rolled his eyes at him. “Maybe you and Enjolras would like to meet us for dinner tonight?” he asked. “Or maybe we can cook and have dinner on the rooftop.”

Grantaire nodded. “I like that idea. I’ll take Enjolras grocery shopping later on.”

It took a while for Grantaire to convince Enjolras to leave the apartment, especially after Jehan had left with Courfeyrac and Combeferre and Enjolras had made it is first priority to rid Grantaire of all his clothes and had dragged him back to his bedroom.

“When do you think they’ll be back?” Enjolras asked, his fingers slowly wandering up Grantaire’s thighs.

“I don’t know,” Grantaire said and caught Enjolras’ hand in his own, “but I know that we definitely have to go buy some food before they do.”

Enjolras looked like he was seriously considering if they actually needed food for a second.

Grantaire sat up, smiling down at Enjolras who was lying on his side, eyes half-lidded, probably still jetlagged. “We can get pie for dessert,” Grantaire said and hopped out of bed, hoping Enjolras would eventually decide to follow him.

It was strange how having Enjolras around made him feel so much better. Not that he’d been doing badly during the last couple of months, but not having to worry about whether or not he’d have to borrow money from Jehan so he’d make it through the next month had been great for him.

Enjolras yawned and stretched and Grantaire didn’t have the decency to look away, but it actually didn’t seem like Enjolras minded him staring. He made a noise that almost sounded like a purr, lazily rolling onto his stomach.

“Tease,” Grantaire muttered and chucked a shirt at Enjolras.

* * *

“This is so great,” Courfeyrac said. “Honestly, I thought our apartment in Paris was fantastic, but it’s nothing in comparison to this.”

“Have you actually seen our apartment?” Grantaire asked, raising his eyebrows. “I mean, you’ve taken a shower, you know it’s shitty, and you’ve probably taken a look at the walls, which means you’ve seen the holes that no one ever bothered to fix and…”

“And our air condition is shit and in winter it gets cold as fuck because the heating is faulty,” Jehan went on, “but don’t listen to Grantaire, he loves the place.”

Grantaire grinned, winking at Enjolras. “I suppose the rooftop is pretty cool.”

In the two years since Enjolras had last been here, Jehan had apparently got himself even more plants and Enjolras really wanted to know where they put them in winter, but he was distracted by Grantaire’s arm sneaking around his waist.

Combeferre and Courfeyrac continued their discussion of where they should go first tomorrow. They’d seemed to have a good time with Jehan today, he’d taken them to the river and they’d had lunch at that horrible pseudo hipster coffee shop that Jehan loved so much and they’d met Bahorel.

Enjolras was glad that they’d had fun, but he hardly paid them any mind. He leaned back against Grantaire, enjoying the last rays of sunlight with his eyes closed.

“Is Enjolras asleep?” Courfeyrac said loudly.

“I’m not,” Enjolras grumbled.

“I think he is,” Courfeyrac said, ignoring him completely. “Grantaire, maybe you should take him to bed.”

Grantaire laughed. “Maybe I should.”

“We’ll help Jehan clean up,” Combeferre said.

Enjolras was glad that Combeferre and Courfeyrac were so keen on making sure that he got to spend a lot of time with Grantaire, and just with Grantaire. He knew that Combeferre had noticed how uneasy he’d grown during the last couple of months, they’d even talked about it now and again.

Enjolras was pretty sure that the reason Combeferre wanted to give him some alone time with Grantaire was mostly because he wanted him to talk things through with him, make sure they were still on the same page, and Courfeyrac, well, he probably just wanted to give them time to do the things they couldn’t do when they were on two different continents – and talking certainly wasn’t one of those things.

Obviously Enjolras knew that they’d have to talk at some point, but he was scared that when he asked Grantaire what he wanted their future to look like, he might not exactly like his answer. He wasn’t sure if Grantaire had even thought much about it.

But if Grantaire were to ask him the same question, Enjolras really wouldn’t know what to say to him either. He loved Grantaire and he wanted to be with him, but he wasn’t sure for how long they could keep going like this. Especially when Grantaire was on tour all the time and Enjolras was starting a job that was going to demand a lot of his time.

They might be able to send each other messages every day, but the calls and the visits? The latter had always been scarce and while Enjolras had been preparing for finals and had been busy writing his thesis, they’d hardly managed to talk. And whenever he’d been able to spare a couple of minutes, Grantaire had been at some motel or in the back of his van, using some random diner’s wifi hotspot, the picture fuzzy and the call breaking up every two minutes or so.

Enjolras hated to admit it, but he doubted that things would be any different in the near future.

Grantaire gave him a nudge. “What do you think?” he whispered. “Bed?”

“It’s a little early to go to bed, don’t you think?” Enjolras asked, eyeing Combeferre and Courfeyrac, who were telling Jehan about how hard it was to find a decent apartment in Paris. Enjolras chewed on his bottom lip. “Whatever,” he muttered before Grantaire could say anything, “let’s go.”

Courfeyrac only dared to whistle once when they went back down to the apartment.

Enjolras flopped down onto Grantaire’s bed, watching as Grantaire plugged in his phone, quickly checking his messages, frowning at something before he eventually put it down with a sigh. He shucked off his shorts and joined Enjolras, reaching out to brush his fingers through Enjolras’ hair, smiling faintly.

Enjolras leaned into his touch, trying very hard to concentrate on the here and now and to stop thinking too much about the future. Apparently he didn’t quite manage.

“You look like that one time your teacher told you that your presentation was shit because you were trying to cover too many issues at once and you complained to me for about three hours on Skype,” Grantaire said dryly. “Something wrong?”

Enjolras shrugged. “Combeferre and Courfeyrac are moving out,” he mumbled. It wasn’t anything he hadn’t known all along and he certainly hadn’t thought that it would bother him this much.

Grantaire hummed and stretched out his arm, beckoning Enjolras to come closer, kissing his forehead when he did. “I’m sure they’ll still come over every now and then.”

“Obviously,” Enjolras muttered, “but it’s going to be so strange without them there.” He sighed and hooked a leg around Grantaire, his hand resting on Grantaire’s chest. “I do understand why they want their own place, but my apartment is so big, I don’t even know what to put in their rooms when they’re gone.”

“You could always find a new roommate,” Grantaire suggested, then he laughed. “Then again, I’m pretty sure you’d just hate everyone.”

“Probably,” Enjolras mumbled, although that should have been a _definitely_ , because Grantaire was one hundred percent right about that.

“You could get a pet.”

“To fill two rooms?”

“Well, there are big pets,” Grantaire mused. “You know, like a really huge dog or something.”

Enjolras groaned, hiding his face in Grantaire’s shirt.

“You know, having too much space is such a great problem to have,” Grantaire went on, his fingers slowly wandering down Enjolras’ spine. “You could have your own library, or a study or something like that. No wait, you should totally get an indoor hot tub.”

“What would I need a hot tub for?”

“I don’t know,” Grantaire said innocently, his fingers slipping under the waistband of Enjolras’ shorts, “maybe for… being naked. Together with your boyfriend who’s coming to Paris this summer.”

“You’re going to be in Paris for about a day,” Enjolras muttered. “And you’ll have to play a show, so I’ll hardly see you.”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t make the tour schedule,” Grantaire said defensively. “But afterwards I might have enough money to come visit you before I hopefully record my second album.”

“Maybe I should turn one of the rooms into a guest room,” Enjolras mused. He hadn’t thought about it this way. Maybe Grantaire would have more time to visit him, maybe they wouldn’t have to wait months and months to see each other again.

“So I can do what?” Grantaire asked, laughing quietly. “Not sleep in your bed?”

“Well, other people might come visit me and they might not want to sleep in my bed,” Enjolras replied.

Grantaire hummed, his lips briefly brushing against Enjolras’ forehead, slowly twitching into a smile. “Can I ask you something? Hypothetically?”

“Go ahead,” Enjolras muttered.

“Could you afford a hot tub?” Grantaire asked.

“I suppose I could,” Enjolras replied warily. He wasn’t quite sure where this was going. “I still have some money left that I didn’t spend on university.”

“I’m just wondering, because we’ve never actually talked about this. Like, about why you own an apartment in Paris, which I’m sure isn’t that cheap. And how you could hypothetically afford a hot tub.”

This really wasn’t Enjolras’ favorite topic, although he did understand why Grantaire was curious. They’d never talked about their families, Grantaire had never even mentioned his, so Enjolras figured that he probably hadn’t talked to them in a while.

“My parents aren’t exactly poor,” Enjolras said eventually.

“Yeah, I figured as much,” Grantaire said, but fell silent again, probably waiting for Enjolras to tell him more.

“There’re not bad people.” Enjolras pulled away from Grantaire, but just far enough so that he could actually look at him. “They’re just very concerned for their reputation, they wouldn’t want the neighbors to know that I organize protests in Paris or that I support equal marriage or…” He trailed off, shrugging. The list went on and on. “Or that I’m gay,” he added as an afterthought.

Grantaire only stared at him for a long moment and Enjolras really couldn’t figure out what he was thinking.

“What?” Enjolras asked.

Grantaire pursed his lips. “Have you told them about me?”

“I don’t talk to them about my personal life,” Enjolras mumbled. “They’re not interested. All they ever cared about were my achievements. They did their best to ignore everything else. They still do.”

“Yeah, I know what that is like,” Grantaire said, rolling onto his back, staring at the ceiling instead of looking at Enjolras. “I hope you’re not too disappointed that I’ll never introduce you to my parents.”

“It’s alright,” Enjolras said firmly and pillowed his head on Grantaire’s chest. “I love you,” he whispered.

Grantaire hummed happily. “I love you, too.”

* * *

“Stop it,” Grantaire grumbled. He wasn’t sure what Enjolras was doing and he wasn’t too keen on figuring it out because it was dark and Grantaire had a feeling that he’d fallen asleep about thirty minutes ago, so he certainly hadn’t slept for long enough.

“I’m sorry,” Enjolras whispered. The mattress shook again, then Enjolras let out a low grumble.

Grantaire pried his eyes open, finding Enjolras staring back at him in the dim light. “What is it?”

“I can’t sleep,” Enjolras muttered. He rolled onto his stomach with a huff, his face pressed into a pillow. “It’s just way too hot,” he added, his voice muffled.

“Sorry…” Grantaire was so used to his barely-working air conditioning, it really didn’t bother him that much anymore. Or maybe it wasn’t actually the heat that was keeping Enjolras awake.

Enjolras sat up and brushed a sweaty curl out of his face. He was buck naked, just like Grantaire, the bedsheets tangled around their feet. Grantaire reached out, trailing his fingers across Enjolras’ skin. Enjolras remained perfectly still, his lips curling into a smile.

“Sorry for keeping you up,” Enjolras mumbled eventually.

“There are worse things.” Grantaire’s fingers wandered into Enjolras’ curls, running his fingers through them, smiling when Enjolras relaxed and lay back down.

“But you have to play a show tomorrow night,” Enjolras protested, but only weakly.

“Yeah, that’s tomorrow night,” Grantaire said. He inched a little closer to Enjolras. “There’s a lot of time to sleep between now and then.”

“Are you nervous?”

“I always am,” Grantaire said, laughing lowly. “I nearly threw up before my first show, because I was so damn anxious. Honestly, I almost went back home.”

“But you didn’t,” Enjolras mumbled.

“I didn’t.” Grantaire idly twirled one of Enjolras’ curls around his finger. He had to admit that as much as he missed his long hair, the short curls were definitely a sight to behold as well. “But I was a mess and then no one showed up, you know, except for a couple of people I knew. Jehan and Bahorel were there. They even had shirts.”

Enjolras’ eyes went wide all of a sudden. “I didn’t bring my shirt.”

“What shirt?” Grantaire asked.

“The one you sent me,” Enjolras replied. “From your last tour.”

“You don’t need a shirt,” Grantaire said, rolling his eyes. “But Jehan’s gonna sell merch, so if you really want one, you can tell him to give you one.”

Enjolras grinned. “Okay, I will.” His breath hitched when Grantaire’s fingers scraped over his scalp, shivering ever so slightly when Grantaire trailed his hands down his spine, down to the curve of his ass. “Is it…” He broke off to bite his lip as Grantaire’s let his fingers wander down his thigh.

Grantaire stilled, withdrawing his hand. “Hm?”

He got a withering look from Enjolras in return. “Don’t stop.”

“Well, excuse me, I thought I was distracting you,” Grantaire muttered, but dutifully put his hands back on Enjolras. “You were saying?”

“Is it weird? Being able to do what you’ve always wanted to do without having to worry as much as before?”

To be quite honest, it wasn’t as great as Grantaire had expected it to be. He was still scared that he’d fail in the end, just like he always had, that the label would kick him out, and now it was even worse than before. “It is,” Grantaire eventually settled on saying. “But it’s not like I don’t have to worry about anything anymore.”

Enjolras frowned. “What do you mean?”

Grantaire shrugged. “Well, I’m not Elton John or Justin Timberlake or whatever. It’s not like I have a stable income and if my label thinks that I’m not making them enough money they can just drop me.”

“But you’re good,” Enjolras said, almost sounding petulant. “They know that.”

“There are a lot of good musicians out there,” Grantaire said. “And a lot of them deserve a record deal way more than I do.”

Enjolras shifted and caught Grantaire’s hand in his. “That’s not true.”

“Enjolras…”

“I’m serious, it’s not,” Enjolras said insistently, loud enough to wake up everyone in the apartment.

Grantaire pressed a finger to his lips. “Okay, okay, just keep it down.”

Enjolras pursed his lips, but didn’t say anything else, just kept glaring at Grantaire defiantly, until Grantaire eventually relented and winked at him. Enjolras’ lips twitched and he kissed the tip of Grantaire’s finger.

“I’m really excited to see you play again,” Enjolras whispered, smiling at him. “So is Courfeyrac, by the way, I don’t think he told you, but he bought your album when it came out and he wouldn’t stop listening to it.”

Grantaire laughed. “Seriously?”

“Yeah,” Enjolras said. His eyelids fluttered shut. “You know, you could always play something for me.”

“I’ll wake everyone up,” Grantaire said, already reaching for his guitar. He’d just have to play quietly. “I won’t sing, okay?”

Enjolras nodded, opening his eyes again to watch him. They drooped shut again after a couple of minutes, but there was still the hint of a smile playing around Enjolras’ lips while Grantaire plucked at the strings of his guitar.

He played some of his old songs, some of the newer ones that he’d written right before he’d recorded the album in the spring – ten songs in the shortest time imaginable. He obviously wasn’t his label’s number one act, but they’d done their best to release the album as soon as possible and not to leave him hanging.

And at some point he’d have to record a second album and Grantaire somehow dreaded it already.

He did have a couple of new songs, but they weren’t enough for an entire album. Grantaire looked down at Enjolras, now fast asleep, and started plucking a different tune, a new one, not quite sure where it was going yet, but it worked somehow, so Grantaire kept playing, jotting down some notes later on so he wouldn’t forget.

Afterwards he curled up in bed again, pulling the sheets up a little because his toes were starting to get cold. Grantaire closed his eyes, convinced that he’d go right back to sleep, but it wasn’t so easy. Thoughts had started to gnaw at him the second Enjolras had asked him if he was nervous, and this was by no means his fault, but now Grantaire felt strangely jittery. It wasn’t always this bad before his gigs, but sometimes waves of anxiety just came crashing down on him and there wasn’t much that he could do about it.

He’d learned to deal with it over the years, although most of his methods of coping weren’t exactly healthy.

Grantaire cast a sidelong glance at Enjolras to make sure that he was still asleep, then he slipped out of bed again, pulled on a pair of boxers and fished his cigarettes from his drawer before he climbed out onto the fire escape as quietly as he could.

It was better than sneaking down to the kitchen to open a bottle of vodka, he thought.

* * *

Enjolras couldn’t help but smile when Grantaire winked at him before he started playing his last song. He’d kept sneaking him glances throughout his set and Enjolras had blushed bright red every single time.

Courfeyrac had elbowed him in the ribs whenever he’d noticed and Enjolras had laughed and rolled his eyes at him.

Feuilly had joined them not too long ago, but had retreated to the bar with Bahorel while Enjolras had stayed closer to the stage with Combeferre and Courfeyrac, the latter hooting and whistling like there was no tomorrow.

Grantaire waved at them after his last song, thanking everyone for coming and telling them that he’d be at the merch table if they fancied a chat.

“Can we go to the merch table?” Courfeyrac asked. “I want Grantaire to sign my shirt.”

“He could have signed your shirt this morning during breakfast,” Combeferre said dryly, but let himself be dragged off by Courfeyrac anyway.

Enjolras was about to follow them when an arm slipped around his waist. “How’d you like the show?” Grantaire asked, his lips brushing against the shell of Enjolras’ ear, making him shiver.

“It was great,” Enjolras said earnestly.

Grantaire grinned and kissed his cheek. “We won’t stay for too long, I promise. I just have to talk to a couple of people, you know, talk them into buying the album and shit.”

“Yeah, I think Courfeyrac is waiting for you, he wants you to sign his shirt.”

Grantaire snorted, shaking his head as he took Enjolras by the hand and pulled him toward the table that Jehan had set up earlier.

It only took Enjolras about a quarter of an hour to realize that Grantaire wouldn’t be able to keep his promise. There were just way too many people lining up to talk to him and to get something signed. Jehan quickly found something for him to do, though, and told him to grab shirts and CDs for him.

When most of the people around the table had dispersed, Grantaire was nowhere to be found.

The little club had started to empty and Enjolras could spot Bahorel and Feuilly, still at the bar, so he joined them, asking Feuilly how he’d been and how things were going in the company now that Cosette was in Paris.

“I actually talked to her the other day,” Feuilly said, grinning broadly. “She said she had a boyfriend now.”

Enjolras nodded. “She does.” Cosette and Marius showed up together _everywhere_ , it was like they were attached by the hip. And occasionally also by the lips.

“I think,” Bahorel threw in, giving Enjolras a nudge, “you should probably go get Grantaire.”

Enjolras frowned, turning around to see what Bahorel was looking at. Grantaire was standing over by the stage – maybe he’d started packing up his instruments now that people had started to leave – and there was a girl standing next to him, well, actually really rather close to him, and she was so very obviously flirting with him that even Enjolras realized what was going on over there.

Grantaire was smiling at her and Enjolras was loath to admit that he did feel a pang of jealousy when she reached out to touch Grantaire’s arm.

“Seriously,” Bahorel went on, “if you don’t do it, I’ll go.”

Enjolras shook his head and walked over to them, putting on a smile. “I’m really sorry to interrupt…”

Grantaire cleared his throat. “Do we, um, do we have to leave?” He didn’t wait for Enjolras to reply and turned back to the girl. “Well, I guess I should pack up my stuff, the guy with the van won’t wait forever.”

“And when your stuff is in the van…” The girl smiled at Grantaire, completely ignoring Enjolras. “Will you want some company?”

“I’ll actually head straight home, I have friends visiting,” Grantaire said smoothly. “But it was lovely talking to you.”

“See you soon,” she said, casting a fleeting glance at Enjolras before she left.

“Jesus,” Grantaire mumbled and hopped back up onto the stage. “Do you want to help?” he asked and held out a hand for Enjolras to pull him up as well.

“Does that happen a lot?” Enjolras couldn’t help but ask.

“You mean girls trying to not-so-subtly get in my pants?” Grantaire asked nonchalantly.

Enjolras nodded. He probably should have thought about this at some point. Not that he didn’t trust Grantaire, it just seemed strange to him.

“It does sometimes,” Grantaire said, eyeing him warily. He took a step closer to Enjolras, keeping his voice low, although there was no one around except their friends over at the bar and some other people who’d lingered to have a drink after the show. “It bothers you, doesn’t it?”

“It doesn’t _bother_ me,” Enjolras said defensively. “It’s just strange.”

“Well, I bet people chat you up all the time,” Grantaire said with a shrug. “It’s no big deal.”

Enjolras folded his arms across his chest. “That’s not the same thing.”

“How is it not the same thing?”

 “Well, you could just go out and sleep with… I don’t know, anyone… and I wouldn’t even know.”

“One more time,” Grantaire said lowly. “How is it not the same thing? So could you.”

“But people don’t throw themselves at me,” Enjolras shot back.

“So?” Grantaire asked, definitely looking angry now. “Do you really think I’d do that? Really?”

Enjolras sighed. “No, of course not.”

“Then why would you even bring it up?” Grantaire snapped.

“Because…” Enjolras shrugged. “I’m thinking about things, about you and me and our future together and you don’t seem to be bothered by it, but I want to know where this is going.” The words just came rushing out of him, he didn’t even have time to think about whether or not this was the appropriate place and time for this.

Grantaire’s expression went blank for a moment, before it softened and he reached out, his fingers curling around Enjolras’ wrist. “Do you really want to talk about this right now?”

Enjolras quickly looked around the club and saw Courfeyrac waving at him. He waved back, doing his best to smile at him before he turned back to Grantaire. “No,” he said, “not really.”

“So we’ll put it off?” Grantaire asked and the look on his face made Enjolras wish that he’d never brought it up.

He nodded. “Now is not a good time.”

“I agree,” Grantaire muttered. “But I don’t think there’ll ever be.”

“Before I leave,” Enjolras said firmly.

“Alright.” Grantaire didn’t look too happy about the prospect, but he gave Enjolras’ hand a squeeze. “Do you want to help me pack this all up?”

“Sure,” Enjolras said, but Grantaire’s instructions to _hold this_ and _put that there_ didn’t quite keep his thoughts from running in circles.

* * *

When they crawled into bed that night, Enjolras was quiet.

Grantaire was worried. He tried not to show it, patiently answered all of Courfeyrac’s questions about his shows and his record deal and joked around with Combeferre. Jehan still seemed to have noticed that something was up because he gave him a hug when he bid them all a good night.

Grantaire pulled up the sheets, knowing full well that a couple of minutes from now one of them would kick them off.

“Good night,” Grantaire whispered into the darkness of his room. He couldn’t just go to sleep without saying a word.

Enjolras didn’t reply, but his arm wrapped around him and it almost felt like a peace offering.

The next morning, Enjolras kissed him awake, and they stayed in bed, trading lazy kisses until Courfeyrac came to get them, since they were planning on spending the afternoon in Central Park.

Time flew by, day after day was filled with trips to museums and memorials, the Statue of Liberty and to Coney Island. Grantaire got Combeferre and Courfeyrac tickets for a show on Broadway and he took Enjolras out for a ridiculously fancy dinner. Grantaire wished he could somehow slow down time.

“Jehan said he knew a cool club. Can we please go to the cool club?” Courfeyrac asked during breakfast on their last weekend in New York. “We’re leaving soon and I really–”

Enjolras made a face. “You want to go to a club?”

“It’ll be fun,” Courfeyrac said, giving Grantaire a nudge. “What do you think?”

Grantaire shrugged. He didn’t mind going and he liked that club well enough. He also knew some of the barkeepers there, so they’d undoubtedly get a couple of free drinks, but Enjolras really didn’t seem to be too intrigued by the idea. “If you guys want to go, I don’t mind.”

Courfeyrac grinned and turned to Combeferre. “What do you think?”

“I suppose it wouldn’t be so bad,” Combeferre said, his lips curling into a smile. He didn’t really look like much of a party person at first glance, but Combeferre was definitely living proof that looks could be deceiving.

Enjolras stuck out his bottom lip. “Fine, then.”

Grantaire leaned a little closer to him. “We can always leave early,” he whispered, pressing a gently kiss to Enjolras’ temple.

That put a smile back on Enjolras’ face. “That’s a fantastic idea.”

Enjolras did glare at them all day, but despite his initial doubts, Grantaire was actually pretty sure that he ended up having at least a little bit of fun. Enjolras had put on sinfully tight jeans for the occasion – watching him put them on had almost been as great as watching him dance in them.

But only almost.

Well, he wasn’t exactly dancing, he was just moving around on the dancefloor a little aimlessly, because that was where Combeferre and Courfeyrac had dragged him. Jehan was there, too, having something that looked suspiciously like a dance-off with Bahorel.

It was a small club, not big enough for Grantaire to actually lose anyone while he’d gone to get himself a drink. He grinned at Enjolras when he spotted him and quickly swept him away from Combeferre and Courfeyrac, pulling him against him.

“Enjoying yourself?” Grantaire asked.

Enjolras wrinkled his nose. “I don’t like dancing that much.”

“Would you rather go find a quiet corner?” Grantaire asked, tilting his head so he could nuzzle at Enjolras’ jaw.

Enjolras nodded and let Grantaire pull him away from their friends and to the back of the club. It wasn’t exactly quiet there, but definitely less crowded. There were a couple of free booths and they’d barely sat down when Enjolras’ lips were on his, giving him a filthy kiss.

His lips tasted sweet, his hands were roaming, fingers eventually curling into the thin fabric of Grantaire’s shirt to pull him closer.

Enjolras’ fingers twisted in Grantaire’s curls as he planted sloppy kisses along the line of his jaw. “Grantaire,” Enjolras said, his breath hot against Grantaire’s skin. “I want to…” The hand that wasn’t currently buried in his curls slipped down to Grantaire’s crotch.

Grantaire caught Enjolras’ hand in his, laughing. “Later…”

“We could just go home.” Enjolras gave him a soft kiss. “You said we could leave early.”

“Well,” Grantaire said with a shrug, “we got here only about an hour ago, but if you really want to leave…”

“Yes,” Enjolras said, but pulled him into another kiss, teeth scraping over his bottom lip.

Well, it seemed that Enjolras wasn’t that eager to leave after all, so Grantaire went along with it, kissing him back roughly. Grantaire wasn’t thinking too much about what was going on around them, but he was pretty sure that no one paid them any mind anyway and it wasn’t until a while later that they eventually got up to leave.

Grantaire found Jehan to ask him to please make sure that Combeferre and Courfeyrac made it back to their apartment, before he dragged Enjolras outside with him. It was still warm outside, they easily could have walked back to his apartment, but Grantaire was eager to get home, and he had a feeling that Enjolras felt the same way, so he hailed them a cab.

It occurred to Grantaire that he’d probably never left a club this sober and even Enjolras, who’d been a little tipsy after the two drinks he’d had, seemed to be pretty steady on his feet again.

Grantaire ushered him into the cab, quickly giving the driver his address before Enjolras could recapture his lips. Going home had really been a fantastic idea, because things had definitely got pretty heated in the club and neither of them was too keen on keeping his hands off the other.

They’d be all alone at his apartment, probably for hours, since their friends hadn’t seemed to be planning on heading home any time soon.

“When we get home,” Grantaire whispered, “will you let me suck you off?”

Enjolras let out a strangled noise in affirmation and Grantaire only felt sorry for the cabdriver for a second when leaned in to kiss Enjolras again. His hand slowly moved up Enjolras’ thigh, palming his cock through his jeans, smirking against Enjolras’ lips when he found that he was half-hard already.

Grantaire deftly pushed Enjolras’ shirt out of the way, fumbling with the button of his jeans.

“What are you doing?” Enjolras pulled away, his eyes wide.

Grantaire give his dick a squeeze and Enjolras bit his lip. He was definitely getting the idea. Enjolras only stared at him for a moment before he pulled Grantaire back against him, not protesting this time when Grantaire’s hand slipped into his boxers.

Grantaire quickly eyed the cab driver, who was thankfully keeping his eyes on the road, and then turned his attention back to Enjolras. His face was flushed and Grantaire could tell that he was trying so, so hard not to make a sound, his breath catching when Grantaire rubbed his thumb over the tip of his cock.

It was a good thing that they only had a few more blocks to go, because Grantaire couldn’t move his hand quite as much as he wanted to. It did have the intended effect, though.

Grantaire spared the cab driver another glance, keeping his eyes on him while Enjolras latched on to his neck, sucking bruises into his skin. His fingers were curled around Grantaire’s wrist, keeping his hand right where it was.

When the cab turned the corner into Grantaire’s street, he gave Enjolras’ curls a tug and slowly pulled him off, smirking at him as he gave his cock another squeeze. He then pulled back his hand and dug a couple of bills out of his pockets for the poor cab driver who’d had to endure them for the past ten minutes. Grantaire made sure to give him a big tip and thanked him before he slammed the door shut.

Enjolras grabbed for Grantaire’s hand and pulled him into another kiss before Grantaire could even get them through the front door, moaning softly when Grantaire’s hands slipped into the back pockets of his jeans, bringing their hips together.

“Come on,” Grantaire muttered, somehow managing to maneuver the both of them in through the door and up the stairs. They would have made it much faster if they’d only kept their hands off each other for a few minutes.

Grantaire kicked his shoes off as soon as they were in the apartment, then he knelt down to undo the laces of Enjolras’ Converse, staying on his knees to nuzzle at Enjolras’ cock through his jeans. Enjolras let out of filthiest moan and stumbled back against the wall. Grantaire followed and started working on the zipper of Enjolras’ jeans, leaving a trail of kisses just above the waistband of Enjolras’ boxer-briefs.

“Grantaire,” Enjolras whined, giving Grantaire’s shirt a pull.

“So impatient,” Grantaire mumbled but dutifully scrambled back to his feet, huffing out a laugh when Enjolras started pushing him down the hall.

By the time they’d made it to Grantaire’s room, his shirt was gone and he was busy getting rid of Enjolras’ as well – Jehan would probably find it out in the hallway later on. Grantaire gave Enjolras one last kiss before he pushed him down on the bed so he could start to peel off Enjolras’ skintight jeans, kissing the soft skin of his thighs, smiling at how Enjolras squirmed when Grantaire’s stubble grazed his skin.

Grantaire very slowly pulled off the rest of Enjolras’ clothes and by the time he was completely naked he was panting, his head thrown back, exposing the line of his throat and as much as Grantaire wanted to get his mouth on Enjolras’ cock, he couldn’t let this opportunity slide. Especially not when it presented itself so beautifully.

They’d both wake up covered in bruises in the morning and Grantaire couldn’t wait to slowly trace the marks he’d left on Enjolras’ pale skin, the new ones and the ones that had already started to fade.

Enjolras cursed under his breath when Grantaire finally made his way down to his dick, a drawn-out _fuck_ that turned onto a whimper the second Grantaire took him into his mouth, circling the tip with his tongue. Enjolras’ hips bucked, but Grantaire was quick to hold him in place, sucking him off at his own pace until Enjolras was clawing at the sheets with one hand and tugging at Grantaire’s hair with the other, making the sweetest sounds.

“I need…” Enjolras moaned, and yes, this was so much better when he wasn’t holding back, “Grantaire, I need you to… please…”

Grantaire pulled off, winking at Enjolras, who looked like a complete mess already, his face flushed and his eyes glassy. He was definitely so willing to ignore his own erection in favor of turning Enjolras into even more of a mess.

Enjolras let out a low whine. “I didn’t say you could stop.”

Grantaire gently bit at his hipbone. He smiled when Enjolras bucked his hips and slowly licked a stripe up his cock before he dipped his head down to suck at his balls, slowly working his way back up to the tip, swallowing him down again.

Quiet little whimpers dropped from Enjolras’ lips and his fingers tightened in Grantaire’s hair again. “Grantaire, I’m…” He moaned and one of his legs wrapped around Grantaire to keep him close.

Grantaire got the message, only hummed around Enjolras’ dick to tell him that he was fine right where he was, licking up every last drop when Enjolras came. He stayed right where he was for a moment until Enjolras squirmed, whining when Grantaire lightly sucked at the tip of his cock before he pulled away.

“Fuck,” Enjolras whispered. He propped himself up on his elbows, a dazed smile on his face. His golden curls were plastered to his forehead, and he was still breathing heavily when he tugged Grantaire back up to bring their lips together, pulling him flush against him. “Why are you still wearing jeans?” Enjolras mumbled against Grantaire’s lips, his fingers already sneaking between them to get them off.

Grantaire wiggled out of them and kicked them off the bed, his boxers joining them on the floor seconds later. He gasped when Enjolras’ fingers wrapped around his cock, stroking him a few times before he made a mostly futile attempt at flipping them around. Grantaire laughed breathlessly and quickly rolled off Enjolras, hips bucking into Enjolras’ touch.

Enjolras used every trick in the book to get him off quickly and Grantaire came with Enjolras’ name on his lips, all over his stomach and Enjolras’ hand. Enjolras sank down onto the mattress, smirking at Grantaire as he started to lick his hand clean.

“Jesus, fuck…” Grantaire reached out to pull Enjolras closer, curls still damp with sweat tickling his chin when Enjolras pillowed his head on his chest.

“What do you think,” Enjolras whispered, “how much longer are they going to be out?”

“A while longer,” Grantaire said, his breath hitching when Enjolras turned his head to bite at one of his nipples.

Enjolras smiled against his skin. “Good.”

* * *

Enjolras woke up feeling sticky and sweaty and completely and utterly content. Grantaire was still right next to him, an arm slung around Enjolras, his breathing slow and even.

He didn’t move as to not wake up Grantaire, just opened his eyes to check what time it was. Grantaire’s alarm clock read 7:42 AM, much too early for anyone in the apartment to be awake. Enjolras had no idea why on earth he was up already, but he decided that he’d use the time to be idle, since they’d be going back to Paris on Tuesday and he’d start work the Monday after – he’d have very little time to be idle then.

Grantaire scrunched up his nose, nuzzling into his pillow with a low grumble. Enjolras smiled and inched closer to him, watching as Grantaire shifted around in his sleep and eventually settled down again, now lying on his back, snoring quietly.

Enjolras’ fingers twitched to reach out and trace Grantaire’s tattoos, but he kept his hands to himself, just watching the rise and fall of his chest.

He only had two more mornings left after this one and he knew that they needed to talk before he left, but things had been so easy during the past three weeks – except for that one evening where they’d decided to put off the talking – and Enjolras had nearly forgotten about all his doubts and worries. But he knew they’d sneak up on him again once he was back home, he knew it would be a mistake not to talk while they still had the chance to speak to each other face to face.

Enjolras could hear Combeferre laugh in the living room about half an hour later, Courfeyrac joined in, but they fell silent after a moment. He could hear footsteps out in the hallway, probably someone going to the bathroom, then the apartment was quiet again. Someone was shouting downstairs, cars drove by, somewhere a phone was ringing.

Grantaire stirred soon enough, blinking at Enjolras. “Hm, good mornin’.”

“Good morning,” Enjolras whispered, wrapping himself around Grantaire now that he wasn’t afraid that he’d wake him up anymore.

Grantaire buried his face in Enjolras curls, letting out a happy sigh.

“Grantaire,” Enjolras said, “we should talk.” They’d already established that there’d never be a good time for this, but they needed to do it at some point.

Grantaire froze. “Now?”

“Do you want to wait until the day I leave?” Enjolras asked and sat up. “I just want to…”

“Get it over with?” Grantaire finished for him. He propped himself up as well, looking wide awake now.

Enjolras shrugged. “I suppose.”

“Alright,” Grantaire mumbled and quickly hopped out of bed and pulled on his boxers and a shirt. “I’ll just…” He pointed at the door. “I’ll get us some coffee.”

Enjolras nodded and pulled on some clothes too while Grantaire was gone. He needed a shower, but that would have to wait.

When Grantaire returned he handed him a cup of coffee, but put his own down on the bedside table. He sat down next to Enjolras, his legs drawn up to his chest. “So…” he said quietly.

Enjolras bit his lip. He wasn’t so sure where to start and he didn’t want Grantaire to think that his feelings for him had changed or that he didn’t want this anymore, he just needed to know where their relationship was going and how they were going to deal with it.

“It’s not going to work, is it?” Grantaire asked before Enjolras could say anything.

Enjolras shook his head. This wasn’t where he wanted this talk to go. “But I want it to work.”

“I know, Enjolras. So do I,” Grantaire mumbled. “Believe me, I do, but we can’t fix this just by wanting it.”

“But there isn’t anything to fix,” Enjolras protested. “It’s hard, yes, and I miss you so much when you’re not around, but there’s nothing to fix.”

Grantaire shifted a little closer to Enjolras. “Can I ask you something? I’ve… you know, I’ve been thinking about this. About us.”

Enjolras only nodded.

“Can you see us together? I mean, never mind in which city, but can you see us living together and going to bed together each night and waking up together in the morning and having breakfast and dinner together, sharing an apartment and all that?”

Quite frankly, Enjolras wasn’t so sure how to answer that question. He certainly wanted that, he wanted to be with Grantaire each and every day, but it honestly didn’t seem even remotely realistic to him.

“Yeah, I thought so,” Grantaire mumbled when Enjolras didn’t reply. “Look, I don’t want to break up with you. If you want to keep trying, then we’ll keep trying, I just don’t know if… if it makes much sense if we already know that we don’t have a future together.”

“I see,” Enjolras said lowly.

“I mean, you’re in Paris, and you’re always going to be there, because it’s where you belong, you wouldn’t like it anywhere else. And I have no idea what my future looks like, but right now it just doesn’t involve staying in one place for too long.” Grantaire rubbed his hands over his face. “I can tell that you’re not happy. But you being happy is the most important thing to me.” He leaned his head on Enjolras’ shoulder and intertwined their fingers. “What do you think we should do?”

“I don’t want to lose you,” Enjolras said. “But I don’t want to wait another year until I see you again either. And don’t say that you’re coming to Paris soon anyway, because you’ll only be there for a couple of hours. I want to really see you and spend time with you. Seeing you once a year for a couple of weeks just isn’t enough.”

“I know.” Grantaire nosed along his shoulder. “Maybe we should…” He shrugged. “We could take a break, figure our lives out, you know?”

“Take a break,” Enjolras echoed. His voice sounded hollow. “And then what? I mean, do we go out with other people while we’re taking a break? Do we… do we talk to each other? How is it different from just breaking up?” He sounded angry, he didn’t mean to, but he just couldn’t help himself. “I’m sorry,” Enjolras muttered. “Maybe you’re right.”

“We can still talk,” Grantaire said. “You can tell me about your new job. And I’ll tell you about… I don’t know. And maybe we can still see each other when I’m in Paris. That’ll give us about a month to think things through. We can just take things from there.”

“So we’re not breaking up.” At least that was something he could hold on to. He wasn’t going to lose Grantaire.

“We’re not,” Grantaire said firmly.

Enjolras sighed. His eyes were stinging, dread was washing over him. This didn’t feel right. “Why does it feel like we’re breaking up, then?”

“We’re not breaking up,” Grantaire said, but now it sounded like he didn’t quite believe it himself all of a sudden.

* * *

“I can’t believe we’re going back home already,” Courfeyrac whined. He looked down at his burger with sad puppy eyes. “They don’t make them like this in France.”

Combeferre patted him on the back. “I’m pretty sure that we’ll be able to find a decent burger somewhere in Paris.”

Grantaire grinned although he really didn’t feel much like grinning. Enjolras was holding on to his hand with a vice-like grip and Grantaire wasn’t quite sure what was going to happen once he had to let go.

They were at some small airport café, drinking horrible coffee. Enjolras had barely touched his.

As far as Grantaire knew, Enjolras hadn’t told Combeferre and Courfeyrac about what they’d decided, and Grantaire hadn’t told Jehan. They’d both allowed themselves to pretend that everything was perfectly fine for two more days.

Grantaire had tried his hardest to keep it together and it had been hard at times, especially when Enjolras had seemed so completely unaffected, laughing along with their friends during their goodbye dinner, only when Enjolras had reached for his hand under the table, only when he’d held on to Grantaire like there was no tomorrow when they’d curled up in bed together, Grantaire had realized that he wasn’t fine at all.

He kept wondering whether or not they’d made the right decision, but it wasn’t like he hadn’t noticed that Enjolras hadn’t been too happy with their relationship as it had been and Grantaire had felt like it was for the best to give him a chance to figure out what he wanted, what made him happy. Because if there was anyone who deserved to be happy, it was Enjolras.

Grantaire wasn’t trying to push him away, he just wanted to give him some space, even though it hurt like hell.

Combeferre cleared his throat, interrupting Grantaire’s train of thought. “We should probably go soon.”

Enjolras glanced down at his watch, then at Grantaire.

“Aw, come on, guys, you’re going to see each other in about a month,” Courfeyrac said.

Grantaire nodded. “Yeah, I know.”

“Why don’t Courfeyrac and I go ahead,” Combeferre said and gave Courfeyrac a nudge. “We’ll wait for you in front of the security gates to say goodbye.”

They’d both jumped up and left before either of them had been able to say a word.

“Well,” Enjolras said, staring down at his coffee.

“Well,” Grantaire echoed. “I’ll see you in Paris.” He was well aware that it sounded like a question. It somehow was one.

“Yeah…” Enjolras leaned closer and kissed his cheek, fingers gently turning his head so his second kiss landed on Grantaire’s lips. “And we’ll talk.”

“We will,” Grantaire said. He gave Enjolras another kiss. And another one. “Ready?”

Enjolras didn’t reply, just stood up, still holding Grantaire’s hand, and led him over to the security gates, where Combeferre and Courfeyrac were waiting for them.

Grantaire got a hug from both of them, they thanked him for letting them stay with him and Jehan for what seemed like the thousandth time and promised that come to his show in Paris. Enjolras pulled him into a hug too and held him there for a long moment.

“I’ll miss you,” Enjolras whispered and kissed his forehead.

“I’ll miss you, too,” Grantaire said as he pulled away. He managed a feeble smile. “Have a good flight and let me know when you’re back in Paris, alright?”

Combeferre glanced back and forth between Enjolras and Grantaire, his brow creased. “Of course,” he said lowly.

There were a lot of _goodbye_ s and _see you soon_ s, then Combeferre and Courfeyrac headed towards security while Enjolras remained by Grantaire’s side for another minute, his eyes never leaving his.

“Take care,” Grantaire eventually said. He had no idea how to deal with this. He didn’t want to have to deal with this.

Enjolras nodded, the stony façade he’d tried to build up all day crumbling quickly. “You too,” he whispered, before he finally turned around to follow Combeferre and Courfeyrac, not looking back over his shoulder even once.

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea if people still read this series, but I'll definitely write one more part (hopefully soon-ish).


End file.
